


Truth Wins Out

by TruebornAlpha



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Feels, Future Fic, Idiots, M/M, Mutual Pining, Public Sex, self destructive behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4157544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott had never said a word about the way he felt and lost his chance when Stiles married Derek. It’s been six months since the wedding, and the best thing Scott could do was keep his distance and give his friends a chance at happiness. But happiness wasn’t always guaranteed and some bonds can’t be broken so easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth Wins Out

The lies tightened around Scott’s neck like a noose, pulling tight until he couldn’t breathe. It felt like he was having an asthma attack, though it had been years since the iron bands had closed around his chest tight enough to crack ribs as his own body turned against him. This was his fault. It was his fault. Having a pale and shallow version of the friend who used to hold his hand had always been better than losing him completely. He’d done it to save their friendship and had lost it all anyways, long before he tore down his walls and exposed the most vulnerable parts of himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Scott had almost convinced himself that it couldn’t have hurt any worse. God, he was so fucking wrong.

They had barely spoken, but having any part of Stiles was better than losing everything. How could he have ever let this get so out of control? He was used to being the one to smile through the pain, always the calm and trusted voice taking on everyone else’s problems. He held it all for them, pulling their own aches into himself if it could make things easier for someone else and hiding the scars deep inside beneath skin that refused to carry them. There’d been a time when he could turn to the one person he knew would always be at his side for help when he needed it. Fuck, he’d been saying that too much, lately.

They’d been best friends once, a long time ago when things had been simpler. After surviving the pitfalls of high school (and werewolfhood), college had been almost a relief. Trying to write 20 pages at 3:00am just hours before it was due seemed like nothing compared to druids and alphas and shape shifting killer lizards. They’d shared a room, more of a concrete box than anything, and Scott had thought he might have finally been brave enough to say what he felt.

It should have been then when they'd lay out under the stars at school and pass a joint back and forth. Scott had always been too physical when he was high, it was dangerous to let himself be so inhibited but something that he couldn’t deny when everything was warm and relaxed. They’d spent too many nights like that, giggling about nothing and curled together, asking the important questions about the universe in between sharing tubes of Pringles until they were too tired to speak. He hadn’t meant to press his face against Stiles’s chest or tangle their legs in knots. It was just an accident that his arms had wrapped around his best friend’s waist when they’d fall asleep. He should have said it then when the world was safe and slightly hazed. He should have said it.

There was still time for confessions when they binged on Ben and Jerry’s during finals week and took the dare to streak from one end of campus to the other. There was still time when Stiles came home breathless, ranting about how Derek didn’t look so bad the last time they went back to Beacon Hills on break, throwing in a few crude jokes about beard burn.

There was time when Scott tugged uncomfortably at the ends of his suit sleeves and smiled, hand on Stiles’s back as he whispered encouragement before handing over the ring so his best friend could promise his forever to someone else. There’d been time and he’d been too afraid to say a word until it was too late. He’d given up his chance so he could keep from ruining their friendship and ended up losing everything they could have had.

He’d never felt so old.

He had always been so willing to give up pieces of himself for others, making sacrifices without being asked or without hesitation. In his weakest moments he wondered how much of himself was left. It would have been nice to have been someone’s first choice. He was just so tired of always having to make the _right_ choice, the responsible choice. The one that made everyone else happy. Why was it that the right choice always ended up hurting so much? Why couldn’t he ever want anything without hating himself for it?

It had been six months since his two best friends had married each other, and Scott had barely spoken to either since then. Space was his gift, a chance to be happy together. If they were happy, then he would try his damnest to be happy too. They mattered more, they always had.

Scott thumbed through his phone as he walked through the mall, ignoring the roar of voices that assailed him from every side. It was deafening, overwhelming his senses until he felt blind. He typed out a quick response, checking the time before weaving his way through the crowd towards his appointment. It was a terrible vice, a shameful secret he’d tried so hard to quit over the years. It left him feeling empty and hating himself, though that had been the root of it all. He’d  _always_ hated himself. Maybe it was a sort of punishment, tempting the universe to ruin everything good he’d ever tried to build. Maybe it was just a way to prove to himself he’d never deserved it anyways.

The men’s room was filthy, but Scott barely noticed as he slipped his phone away. The dance was easy, it was just the two of them giving each other the eye to make sure neither one was a cop. Not that Scott ever had to worry, he was more than familiar with Beacon Hills’ police force. A quick nod, a tap of the foot, predetermined code for those looking to take care of base needs in a hurry. When the blond hooked his fingers into Scott’s beltloops and yanked him into one of the stalls, he didn’t resist.

He didn’t care about anything but release, emotions built up until they were pulling at the seams. The wolf rutted against the stranger with a snarl that only briefly caused him to hesitate before shoving Scott back against the stall wall hard enough to make them shake. Practiced fingers made quick work of the wolf’s belt, letting it jangle free as Scott kissed him hard enough bruise.

“You like it rough?” The man grunted into Scott’s ear, breath hot and stale as he dragged his mouth across the wolf’s neck and down beneath the collar of his shirt.

“No bruises.”

“Aww, where’s the fun in that. C’mon, just a couple. Got someone who’d notice?”

Scott closed his hand around the blond’s throat feeling the human’s pulse jump beneath his fingertips. “You wanna fuck, fine. No bruises.” His partner didn’t even seem to be afraid, responding to the force with a thrill of arousal that made Scott feel sick to his stomach.

“If that’s what you need, baby.”

“I want you to stop talking and suck me off.”

“Fine, anything you want,  _Papi_.”

The wolf resisted the urge to bare his fangs at the slur and forced the man down to his knees in the filthy stall. He didn’t bother to strip, just pushed his pants down enough to free himself as the man looked up at him with blue eyes that were  _wrong_. They were the wrong color, everything about this wasn’t the way it was supposed to be, but he needed this too badly to worry about his preferences. The man licked the drops of precum from his cock, swirling his tongue across the slit until Scott groaned, head dropping back against the wall with a thunk.

The man pumped Scott in his hand, rolling the sensitive skin of his balls between his teeth until the wolf gave a strangled cry.  _Enough of this teasing._  Scott tightened his grip in the man’s light hair (wrong color, wrong everything!) and thrust into his mouth. It might have been wrong, but it was still warm and wet as the blond drooled down his cock, swallowing hard around him until Scott’s eyes rolled. The wolf was relentless, taking what he needed with half-muffled grunts as his partner gagged so prettily on his dick, strings of spit hanging from his abused lips. It didn’t take long with this human’s mouth stuffed so full that his eyes watered and Scott came with a long exhaled breath. His thrusts slowed, barely teasing the tip of his cock passed the blond’s mouth as he shot down the man’s throat who eagerly swallowed and licked Scott clean.

The alpha sighed, sagging heavily against the wall as his partner struggled up from his knees and wiped his mouth with the back of his hands. The next part didn’t matter much, he’d gotten what he needed. Maybe his selfishness only mattered when he was the one hurting himself? He let the human capture his mouth, licking his own cum from the other man’s lips. His belt buckle dug painfully into his side as the blond thrust in the sweaty, cum streaked wetness of his thighs, fucking against Scott’s own spent cock that sent the occasional jolt through oversensitive nerves.

“C’mon, c’mon!” The man hissed through grit teeth until he was coming, adding to the mess that the wolf barely seemed to notice. They panted, foreheads resting together as they slowly came back to the world.

“That was  _good_.” The human said with a grin, leaning forward for a kiss as Scott turned his head to evade the gesture.

“Yeah.”

The man shrugged, tucking his limp cock back into his pants and straightening himself out. “Might want to get cleaned up. Look me up online again sometime.”

Scott didn’t answer as the man exited the stall and washed off in the sink, letting the door bang close behind him. The guilt would come soon, it always did. The shame and repentance and promising himself he’d never do this again. It was like clockwork, old dependable friends.

But for now, he was blissfully numb. Numb was good, he’d need numb today.

[Text from Stiles] _Hey Bro! Can we meet at your place?_

[Text from Scott] _Sure on my way_

___

None of this was working, Stiles just didn’t want to admit it. It was easier to pretend the problems didn’t exist and that things were right on track. He’d wanted this, hell, he’d chosen it. It was the easy way out and he hadn’t been disappointed. Derek had wanted him and damn, it had been good to feel wanted. He was a selfish creature and he knew it. What he wanted more than anything came with too many risks and a smile that could blind, but Derek’s devotion was easier to manipulate. It was a poor second, but Stiles was good at lying and thought that with enough time, he might have even learned to fool himself. Derek needed him and Stiles needed to be needed. Six months of this, two years if you included the awkward, uncomfortable dating. He’d done this to get Scott’s attention, trying to show he was desirable enough for his best friend but it had all gone too far. Having someone he didn’t love was better than being alone, right?

He wasn’t as good a liar as he thought. He and Derek had never been good friends. The sex was hot but there’d never been a connection, no common ground or understanding. He thought he was protecting their friendship by choosing someone else, but Scott had been so distant and even Derek was wising up to Stiles’s true feelings. The worst part was that no matter how hard he tried, and he fucking tried, there was no one to blame but himself. He found himself outside of Scott's apartment like he always did when the world felt like it was crashing down and for once, wasn't sure this was a good idea.

They’d always had locks on their doors. Of course they did. Stiles’s dad was the Sheriff, and Scott’s mom had come to terms with reality like only a single mother could. Scott and Stiles just had a tendency of ignoring them. They were open, even when they weren’t, a dozen schemes and plans tucked into each boy’s back-pocket to make sure they always had a direct link with their partner. Then something changed.

Stiles stood in front of a painted door, and tried not to think about how just six months ago, he wouldn’t have bothered knocking, or second-guessed picking the lock.

The apartment was too quiet. If he was a good person, he’d have looked for Scott’s roommates but everything he cared about was in a messy heap in the living room. It was silly. It was so incredibly silly, but they stopped needing explanations the moment Stiles walked through the door. It was like they were four year olds with bruised knees and snotty noses instead of twenty five olds with the same thing. Stiles didn’t wait for an invitation. He took the seat beside his best friend, and pulled Scott into his arms, holding him like he was afraid he would break.

 _It hurts. It hurts so bad._  

Stiles turned on the television, and pretended the rest of the world didn’t know where they were.

It  _was_  a surprise that Stiles had actually showed up, Scott had stopped expecting him, stopped looking for him. It just felt normal these days not to have his best friend around anymore. The wolf didn’t speak, he wasn’t sure what there was to say. They’d used to have entire conversations in silence, knowing each other with just a glance or twisted smirk. It was like they’d shared one mind, though Scott had always known his best friend’s thoughts were more gnarled and devious than he could ever follow.

Somewhere along the way they’d lost that ability to just  _know_. They had to resort to words that didn’t fit the thoughts quite right until they’d stopped using the words too. He wrapped his arms around the other man with a shuddered breath, but refused to break. The walls didn’t come down anymore, even for his best friend. _Maybe_ friend.

The television flickered, the sound filling the silence between them with something inane. Some stupid cooking competition, chefs rushing to make the perfect risotto as if their lives depended on it. Sometimes Scott envied the ones who still got to live without knowing all the dark things that crept on the edges, the inhuman creatures that hunted and blended in until you couldn’t tell who was what. He used to wonder what his life would have been like if he hadn’t been dragged kicking and screaming into this world, or what would have happened if he hadn’t accidentally dragged everyone around him down too.

Finally he spoke because he couldn’t tell anymore and admitting that much to himself was sad. “Are you okay?”

They were different now. There was too much muscle and not enough room for elbows that were no longer as bony. They’d changed. They couldn’t fit the same way they used to, but Stiles still fucking tried. Back home, Derek was moving out and Stiles wished he could make himself feel sadder than he was. People were supposed to cry when their marriages fell apart, all he felt was relief and guilt.

Stiles was always steadier. Far too sharp and quick to anger, but only because anger was a constant and all its precursors bubbled beneath the surface. Scott used to just know that, just know how to make it better. There were no sweeping declarations of love or trust, but that was in the past. Maybe Stiles needed one now? It didn’t feel like he wanted one.

“No. But I will be,” he mumbled against Scott’s skull. It was what they did. They fought, they recovered, they found ‘okay’ again. This was a lot better in the grand scheme of things. No one had gotten hurt. Stiles felt bile creep up his throat.

A ghost of a smile curved along Scott’s lips. He didn’t pull away, didn’t stop looking at the television as he answered. He listened for the once familiar beating of Stiles’s heart, counting each tick and nervous thump under the noise from the tv. This was good, right? This was where they’d always used to be. Beaten warriors and child soldiers trying to pretend the world wasn’t falling apart. He had no idea what he should be doing back then, making it all up as they fought to survive. He’d thought that by now he’d have figured it out.

“We’re going to be okay.” He promised like he always did, though he wasn’t quite sure he believed it with the same blinding zealotry he used to. “We’re gonna figure this out and everyone is going to be okay.”

The _Be a Better Scott McCall program_ worked. Stiles had no idea how. He’d always thought his best friend was the penultimate level of Scott to ever exist, but somehow, his alpha kept surprising him. Scott was the one who held everyone together. While the rest of the pack was selfish and floundering, Scott was the one who offered a helping hand. It was easy to overlook, because he was always so consistent, but there was once a time where all Stiles would do was  _look._

It was smart to stop. It was better for everyone.

“Of course, dude,” he mumbled, idly tugging on Scott’s hair. There was a weird strand on the inside of his palm. Stiles had to run his hand across his friend’s scruffy skull to get rid of it, twice even. Thrice. “We got this. We’re going to be okay.”

And no matter what happened, one thing didn’t change. When Scott said they would be fine, Stiles found a way to believe him.

Stiles swallowed thickly, groping blindly for the heavy throw that adorned the couch, draping it over both of them. He reached under it, lacing their fingers together, like they had the first time Scott told him he was scared of thunderstorms. And Stiles couldn’t even feel guilty.

“So my bet’s on the blonde? The one who’s going nuts on those mushrooms. She looks intense enough to make that risotto insense…er.”

Scott found himself laughing, a surprised and choked sound that forced its way free at the sheer absurdity. After everything, there was risotto and intense blonde chefs chopping mushrooms like they weren’t afraid of losing a finger and all the stupid meaningless unimportant parts of the world kept spinning on like nothing had happened. It was almost a comfort. At least there were still parts of this world that could care about the inane, it meant something. Keeping that ignorance was worth protecting at any cost.

He wriggled under the blanket, squeezing his best friend’s hand tight as if he wasn’t sure if it would be taken away from him. It was the closest sign he gave to having a chink in his armor, keeping his guard high. The wolf leaned into Stiles’s touch, unconscious the way they always did. The way they used too, governed by a gravity all its own. “You can’t ever make risotto in enough time on these shows to have it cooked all the way through. It’s like the number one rule, I don’t know why they keep trying. I guess it’s some kind of ego thing, they all want to be the first person to finally make it. Just you watch, it’s going to be undercooked and crunchy.”

 _I’m not okay either._  He meant without saying. Scott wondered if Stiles knew.  _I haven’t been okay for a long time._

“Oh my god. Oh my god does anyone ever lose fingers on this show?” Stiles asked, genuinely horrified for a hot minute, as the camera zoomed into one of the incredibly skilled chefs destroying her vegetables with a terrifyingly quick knife. This didn’t feel like something he should be allowed to watch without a bucket.

It was the easiest thing in the world to say. They always knew how to make each other laugh, because butts and nipnops and sour patch kids came so easy. It wasn’t their fault that happiness felt like it came with a price for so long, but Stiles would do everything in his power to make sure his best friend had it for free. They’d drifted away from each other, and Stiles knew there were reasons - important, dangerous reasons - that motivated his choices, but it was so hard not to regret them.

“Not that I’ve ever seen. I’d bet they’d edit that part out if it happened, I don’t think you can actually show someone slicing off a body part for real on television. At least not until after 10pm.” Scott said, laughing again.

He could make Scott laugh, but maybe for a little while, he could help the alpha escape too.

He drew little circles across the back of Scott’s palm. When he turned into the other man, it was accidental, but his cheek brushed against Scott’s crown, dark locks tickling his cheek. Stiles had chosen a dangerous road, but he was taking them both down now.

“Remember that time in freshman year, when we tried to cook something off that angry chef guy’s show? And it came out green.” 

“Oh god, I don’t think I’d ever be able to forget. I think I still have nightmares about that, I’m surprised it didn’t melt right through my mom’s pan. We were so freaking proud of it too, she tried it just because she didn’t want to disappoint us. I still have no idea why it turned green though. We tried to follow along with the show, I don’t know what went wrong.” Life had been simpler then, he could barely remember those days. Now, he just felt tired all the time.

Scott kept his eyes glued to the screen even as he wanted to turn to his best friend and cling to him like he’d crawled through Stiles’s windows to escape the way his parents fought at night. Even after so many years and so much self-control, he couldn’t shake it. He turned to look at the other man, so close that it was hard to even see Stiles’s face before he pulled away. He always had to be the one to pull away first. “All this is making me hungry, you want something to eat?”

“Always! Double bacon and peanut butter sandwich?”

The werewolf laughed and hauled himself off the couch, clanking pans in the kitchen as he set out everything he needed before frying off a few slabs of crispy bacon. It was an ode to heart attacks, but sometimes you just needed something terrible and delicious. With the snack finished, Scott went to take a quick bite before bringing it back to his friend.

In seconds, Scott’s sandwich was being plucked out of unsuspecting fingers and shoved in Stiles’s mouth.  Scott watched the perfect greasy treat be defiled with a mournful expression for his loss.

Stiles fixed Scott with a level-stare before he broke the sandwich in half. It was all very serious and important until Stiles accidentally dropped a piece of bacon, and squawked the whole way to the ground, trying to catch it before it beat him.  _Smooth. “_ I just wanted to ask you something.” He fidgeted with the sandwich, picking apart bits of crust on his half. This was supposed to be the easy part, but Stiles’s pulse was racing at a mile a minute. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“How about you clean up before you smear my snack all over my apartment and then get back to work or something. I’m sure you have a lot of prying into other people’s business to finish by the end of today and I’m really busy, dude. I’m sorry.” Scott evaded, angry to be caught off guard by the question before he had an excuse prepared.

“Quit being an ass. We’ve already reached the quota in this friendship,” Stiles scoffed, pulling off blasé by sheer will alone. Because he didn’t know anymore. Maybe this should have been his cue to back up, just like Scott said, but he bumbled around the kitchen, licking peanut butter off his fingers. He threw open a cupboard only to find baking supplies. He let heart-shaped cookie cutters tell him what he already knew. He’d lost his best friend. He didn’t know what was in his kitchen, or where he kept his booze. He didn’t know if Scott really wanted to leave this time. That was exactly the problem.

“I’m not going anywhere, dude. You’re stuck with me. You’ve always been stuck with me. Now where do you keep your damn pans? I need more bacon.”

_I’m going to fix this._

“Will you just  _stop_?” Scott couldn’t keep the snarl from his voice. “I don’t want to play this fucking game, okay? I know this sucks, dude. It’s sucked for a long time, so why the hell are you pushing now? Why can’t you just let this go?” It had all worked well enough, why did they have to rock the boat now? It was fine, it was enough no matter what Stiles said about it. They both knew the steps, this was best for everyone.

The alpha took a deep breath to try and calm himself. He wasn’t going to solve anything by throwing a tantrum like a child. “I’m sorry.” Scott was still always so quick to apologize, that one trait had never changed over the years. He pulled open a cabinet and grabbed the recently scrubbed pan. “I’ll make you some more damn bacon.”

“What the Hell is your problem?!” Stiles demanded, slamming the cabinet shut. This was supposed to be the right thing to do. This was simple. He was trying to salvage their friendship. It was everything he fought for once upon a time, and Stiles still couldn’t believe how far they’d drifted. Scott was supposed to have his back.

He pushed his way into the alpha’s space, boxing the werewolf in. This was almost funny.  Stiles wanted to laugh except he couldn’t seem to find the strength to pull away.

“Scott, what did I do wrong?”

Scott bared his fangs, resisting the urge to shove the human away. It would have been too easy to hurt him and if there was one thing he could never do, it was hurt Stiles. “Nothing, okay?! You didn’t do anything wrong, this is all…it’s all…” The shift sank back beneath his skin and Scott looked away, working the muscles in his jaw as he tried to find the words.

“Scott…”

Stiles was never scared of his best friend. He hadn’t been in years, long before Allison’s death, long before the Darach and Alpha Pack. The first time Scott had pulled out the fangs, Stiles had nearly pissed his pants, sure, but they’d been so young. 

“I fucked it up.” Scott admitted quietly, body tensed like he was looking for an escape. “ _I_  did it, it’s my fault. I tried really hard and it was supposed to get easier, you know? I’m sorry, Stiles. You have no fucking idea how sorry I am.” It was a mess held together with scotch tape, nothing could fix it now. He’d been clinging to something that had ended years ago because he’d never be able to let go, there wasn’t any reason to keep trying. Scott fisted his hands in Stiles’s hair, jerking the other man forward into a kiss.

“What’s wrong? We can fix it. It’s -”  _It’s not too late._ But Stiles’s voice had fallen into a hush. He reached out for his alpha, and it wasn’t fair. It was so easy to be this close, fingers curling in the back of Scott’s shirt. Then the ground shifted under him, and all Stiles could do was hold on.

It was rough and bruising, demanding like they never allowed themselves to be, but Scott was kissing him.  _Scott was kissing him_. Stiles pressed a moan into his lips, mouth slipping open like the worst sort of tease, and it felt so good to finally, finally kiss back.

Scott was made of broken glass, sharp edged and grinding together, shredding every last part of himself. It hurt to be so sure that this was the end, that after everything they’d been through it would all come tumbling down because of him. But Stiles pushed back and Scott let himself fall for just one unguarded moment, taking everything the human could offer and begging, demanding more. He took the other man apart with his mouth, mapping every inch of him as his hands tightened in the soft strands of his hair and in his weakness he wondered what it would be like to drag Stiles down with him.

The wolf pulled away with a shaky gasp, his heart racing and already panting like he couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry.” He whispered again, lying and not lying all in one muddled apology. “I’ve been trying to fix it for years, I don’t think we can. You should go before I fuck this up anymore.”

It shouldn’t have been this simple. This wasn’t right, but Stiles was breathless and shaking. It felt like his heart wanted to burst out of his chest, and he leaned too heavily against the marble counter. He could still taste Scott on his tongue, and he couldn’t look away from the wolf’s mouth, impossibly pink and bruised so sweetly. 

This was a mistake. Anyone would say so. Scott already thought it was, but Stiles couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Scott had wanted this for years, and he was everything Stiles didn’t know he could have. “I left Derek.” Stiles whispered. “He was tired of being used when I wanted…when it  was you.”

The first time was a mistake. Stiles didn’t have an excuse when he pulled his best friend closer, long fingers curved his cheek. He guided Scott in, mouths brushing once, twice before Stiles drew him in, and maybe if they stayed together long enough, Stiles wouldn’t have to face why this felt so right.

“Stiles, I…” Confessions crowded against his lips. He was vulnerable like he used to be when it was just the two of them and Scott almost thought the other man could read everything he’d never been able to say hovering unspoken in the barest inch between them. Years of toeing that line and never being brave enough to ever reach for what he wanted. He smiled, small and afraid but with such a fragile hope that they might actually be okay.

_Stiles had kissed him back. Stiles wanted him!_

Stiles didn’t know what he was doing, but he didn’t think he could stop. Even if he had the option, he wasn’t sure he’d take it. His heart was racing, and his limbs felt like they were made of warm jello. It didn’t matter that they were two losers laughing at nothing because when Scott smiled, the room just seemed brighter.

They laughed, tripping over their own feet before they could trip over each other, drawn closer by the same undeniable magnetism that Stiles had tried to ignore for so long.

“I don’t wanna fuck up,” Stiles whispered. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Being with Scott was the most selfish Stiles had ever allowed himself to be. His stomach was tied up in knots, his hands clammy and pulse racing, but Stiles was tired of running. Scott never made him dull his sharp edges, never stopped challenging him. Everything was a game, until it wasn’t, but Scott was the only one who knew where Stiles drew his lines. All Scott ever asked was for him to be there. Stiles asked for everything else.

 _It could be everything_.

It had been a long time since Scott let himself feel hope for this. He’d done a good job of stamping it down over the years, accepting his place and never pushing passed their defined spaces. It still hurt, he was used to open wounds, but a dull ache that only flared up during the occasional storm.

He still remembered the way Stiles’s face had lit up when he first started to talk about Derek, the way he broke when he handed his best friend a ring and promise forever to someone else. Scott had lost his other half by hesitating and had given his chance to someone else, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. Tonight was a night for new mistakes and he’d risk them all.

Scott coaxed Stiles’s mouth open, slow and gentle this time though the urgency burned just as hot. There was music, or maybe it was just the racing beat in his own veins that moved him. 

A lifetime ago, all those arguments seemed so important: Stiles wasn’t supposed to have this. He wasn’t allowed. There was too much at risk. They were supposed to be  _friends._

Except Stiles had lost that between one moment and the next. He’d lost the person he’d sacrifice everything to keep. He thought about Scott’s sunshine smile, the first time his voice hitched when he talked about going on a date, the way he could catch the eye of everyone just by walking into a room. He thought about how there had been so many other people who got the chance to make the alpha happy, how he tried to convince himself to be happy with what he had.

Everything was so hot. Scott’s mouth was the sweetest drug. He left Stiles fever-flushed and shaking, keening for so much more. Everywhere he touched burned with sensation, muscles trembling so hard, Stiles didn’t know how he was still standing. The rest of the world fell away, until all that mattered were the places they touched. Blunt human nails tugged on Scott’s hair, guiding him, forcing him, so all Stiles had to do was take.

“You’re still my best friend.”

 _Scott kissed him first._ Stiles wasn’t going to let him run.

“Always gonna be your best friend.”

Was it really as simple as all that? Could Scott really have avoided all the years of worry and hesitation? There was more to lose than ever, but god  _damnit_ , for once in his life he wasn’t going to give away another piece of himself to make someone else happy. Stiles was holding on too tight for him to even try.

He grinned into the human’s mouth, claiming his best friend like he’d always wanted. It was shameful, maybe even a little petty, to paint his scent across pale freckled skin. They’d used to be so close that there’d barely been a difference between them though those lingering traces had long been washed away and replaced. It was an illicit thrill to put things right again.

Scott’s hands slid beneath the human’s shirt and he gasped as fingers twisted into his hair with a sharp tug. A small groan slipped from his lips, a desperate and feral plea. The swaying of his hips seemed more deliberate as he mapped Stiles’s mouth with his tongue, fitting together in ways he’d forgotten were possible.  He  _pushed_ , a challenge like always. A dare to see how far he’d be allowed to go, if he’d be stopped. The wolf was so ready to take everything, but he whispered the three words that had always defined their relationship.

“Are you okay?”

An impossible warmth spread through Stiles and he ground into his best friend, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. This was a mess. This was going to be such a mess, but when he kissed Scott, Stiles didn’t want to think straight. Then Scott made Stiles want to break him.

He laughed, low in his throat, barely a whisper against the pounding bass. His fingers curled around Scott’s cheek, guiding him closer as he drew a smile across the curve of his alpha’s cheek. Scott’s hair was standing in every direction, his mouth flushed an obscene red, and Stiles didn’t know how he’d lasted so long without this.

“Now.” Scott’s smile was sweet, and even sweeter against Stiles’s lips, and he couldn’t stop his hands from wandering, tracing every inch of skin he could reach with a hunger that dragged too close to desperate.

“I want you.” There was freedom in honesty. There was clarity in destruction, and fucking hell, temptation was the best thing in the world. “Let’s get out of here, come on. Upstairs.”

Yeah… _yes_.” The words were whispered before his brain could catch up with him and for a moment, Scott was stunned that they weren’t immediately followed by a rush of shame. Who cared if it came later, right now he felt like he was shot through with a thousand volts and humming with energy. Stiles’s hands stripped him raw and he was fifteen again, fumbling and eager and focused on only one thing.

He didn’t care where they went as long as they went now. Already he could barely stop the way his hands slid down the nobs of Stiles’s spine, bending his body impossibly closer or the taste of Stiles on his lips. He’d had this dream too many times over the years, but the real thing had left him shocked.

“N-now.” 

That was all Stiles could stutter out before he was laughing into his best friend’s mouth, pulling him closer. It felt like he was moving through a dream, everything in a drunken haze that he felt far too sharp for. He chased Scott’s mouth, trying to shy away and press into his hands all at once, shirt untucked and pants painfully tight. They kissed and kissed and kissed, and Stiles pressed Scott against the counter so hard, he was sure the wood would crack. The sharp ding of his phone set him off, and he gave it only enough attention to turn it on silent. He was more concerned with shoving Scott towards the stairs.

“New York.” Stiles breathed out, words slurring. His tongue felt too heavy, and his cheeks too warm, but Scott’s eyes were brighter than the stars tonight, and Stiles had his hand over his left butt cheek and refused to stop giggling. “We never went. We were supposed to. Why’d we never went - go? We could have…”

_Could have had everything._

He shoved Scott up the stairs, tripping and laughing as they raced upwards.

“New York. We could go? We should go.” Things had gotten in the way and promises had to wait. They’d planned the trip since they were little, making lists of what to do on their epic roadtrip to the East Coast the summer between senior year and college. It would be their first time out in the world on their own before they had to go to school, a whole summer to drive and never have to stop. But that was before werewolves and demons and evil spirits and other people whose dreams took priority.

It was a miracle they didn’t fall. Scott hadn’t been so reckless in ages and he reveled in it. He reached out with his hand, knotting fingers into his best friend’s hair to pull him close enough to lick the shell of his ear. They were going to fall down the stairs and die and all Scott was worried about was getting his dick out.

Oh god, don’t let anyone put that on his tombstone.

“You are the worst.” He breathed against Stiles’s cheek. “If you kill us before we get there, I’m gonna raise you from the dead and murder you again.”

“Not before I touch your butt. I’m gonna touch your butt, I’m gonna eat your butt., I’m gonna butt your butt your butt!” Stiles grinned shoved the other man backwards through the bedroom door. He cursed, but his hand slid up Scott’s thigh, rubbing against rough denim. He laughed until he was breathless. The world wouldn’t stop spinning, but that was okay. Stiles felt like he was flying.

“Hot. Your dirty talk is- HOLY FUCKING CHRIST, STILES!” Scott shrieked pinwheeled back before howling with laughter until his ribs hurt. It felt so good to laugh like this again, thoughtless and just enjoying the moment without all the worries that had ground him down over the years. His best friend was back, Scott ‘n Stiles together like they were supposed to be.

They were reckless and stupid, but everything was a thousand times too bright. Stiles tipped Scott over on the bed and jumped on him with limbs flailing. His forehead banged against Scott’s, and Stiles yelped through the pain, choking on his laughter an instant later because he had his best friend back. He never wanted to lose him again.

“Missed you,” the human whispered, soft and shy like a school boy with a crush. His blush spread all the way to his ears, and his smile chased it, but he dropped a kiss on Scott’s cheek and everything felt okay again. It felt even better when his hand slipped down Scott’s pants.

“Sorry, I won’t go away again.” Scott promised, smile lost in the space between their lips where no one else could see it. “I missed you so much.” Sweet words were swept away in a breathless grunt like he’d been punched in the gut. He was so hard it hurt and Scott fumbled for the zipper of his pants before he yanked impatiently at Stiles’s shirt until buttons scattered and he could run his hands down the human’s chest.

Stiles shrieked in a decidedly super sexy way, batting away Scott’s hands. Except he must have been doing it wrong, because every time he tried to push Scott away he ended closer and closer, until he had his best friend on his back and pinned to the bed. It was gross and awkward and he’d never find all his buttons, but Stiles couldn’t stop grinning. 

Scott’s shirt disappeared. It was like magic but better, and Scott sucked bruises into tanned skin. He felt his alpha jump and shiver under his mouth, keening so sweetly when blunt human teeth dragged over his pulse. His hand curled around Scott’s dick, palming him hard, smearing precum all over his skin.

“Wanna see you, Scotty.” He rasped. “Wanna see you when you come. Been dreaming about it,  _fuck_ dreaming about you on my dick, making you scream.”

Then Stiles’s elbow knocked against the bedside lamp and the whole room plunged into darkness. Best night ever.

“Dude, you have no idea the things I always wanted to watch your mouth do. Couldn’t even look at you sometimes. I’m gonna wreck you.” Bruises decorated Scott’s skin like jewelry and he slowed his healing to savor the ache. It was supposed to hurt a little bit, being in love always did. There wasn’t enough room as he rutted against Stiles’s hips until the lights went out and Scott panicked, trying to figure out which limbs were his.

Scott laughed helplessly for a moment, sheets cool on his bare skin. In the thousands of times he’d played this out in his mind over the years, he’d always managed to be more coordinated than this. Who the hell was he kidding?

Stiles grabbed onto his friend’s thighs, pressing his face into sculpted muscle. He bit bruises along velvet smooth skin, drumming a beat on Scott’s perky little rump. He couldn’t remember laughing so hard, but he felt like he’d eaten too much cotton candy. His mouth vaguely hurt, and his belly was bloated enough to burst. He was still laughing when he flopped on his butt, wiggling into sheets that smelled so much like Scott.

They moved together with clumsy desperation, trying to find all the ways they could fit. Old memories crept up, a natural rhythm they could never unlearn, finding each other even when there was so much they didn’t know. The best part was discovering. Stiles groaned into Scott’s skin, leaving his mark all over the wolf’s slender throat. His hips bucked hard, forcing the alpha into their mattress. 

“More - Scott more want more.”

Scott groaned, loud and too needy to care about hiding it. He’d hidden everything for too long and thought he missed his chance, but it wasn’t too late. It couldn’t be too late, he wouldn’t let go. They’d been willing to burn together once and Scott was ready to set them both on fire. The wolf’s hands helped guide Stiles’s hips, fat cock trapped between their bodies and drips of precum clinging to the dark hair that curled low on his belly. The slick slide of their cocks was enough to steal his breath and Scott wrapped his legs around Stiles’s waist to urge him on.

“You smell like me again. Like you used to.” He snarled the words with a little too much bite to them.  _Like we’re supposed to!_ Confessions twisted in his gut threatening to split him apart, but now wasn’t the time for heartfelt words. It was too desperate, too unfocused. There was too much need with so many years behind it and he could feel his control slip as red filtered into his eyes. Scott reached between them, fist closing around Stiles’s dick and circling his thumb around the head with a grin.

“How much more?” He teased, sliding his hand down to cup the other man’s balls. “You wanna fuck me, dude? You want me to cum saying  _your_  name?” Scott gave him a few quick pumps before bringing his hand to his mouth and licking the salty liquid from his thumb. “I  _need_  you, Stiles. I need you to fuck me, bro.”

Stiles groaned, open and shameless. A wicked shudder tore through him, his entire body, from his head to his toes. Scott felt so good, the slick feel of skin on skin driving him mad. It was just enough to tease, burning want through his veins. His alpha looked so fucking pretty, spread out and gorgeous in what little light filtered in from the window. Stiles touched everywhere he could reach, fascinated by the sounds he could draw out of his best friend with the flick of his wrist. Scott looked obscene, like Stiles’s filthiest dreams come to life. He watched slender fingers disappear into the alpha’s kiss-bruised lips, and nearly fell apart.

Stiles could almost hear his resolve slipping, cracking and shattering into dust. Part of him still couldn’t believe this was real. None of his fantasies could measure up, and fuck, it hurt so bad, missing his best friend.

He snarled, shoving Scott down and kissing him hard. His teeth dragged over plush lips, the faintest taste of copper teasing his tongue as Stiles claimed every inch of his wolf. He pinned Scott’s arms above him, trapping him in place as he ground in. “Want to make you scream. Want to hear you beg Scott, make you cum on my cock. I want to make you lose control.”

He stole broken moans straight from Scott’s mouth, slowly pulling his hands back to trace the long line of his partner’s body. Stiles pushed up Scott’s knees, putting him on display. His thick cock resting on his belly, so unfairly _pretty_ , his bubble butt just begging to be grabbed.

“Hold these,” he grinned, guiding Scott’s hands to the back of his knees before he shimmied to crouch between his legs. Scott felt so good, filling up Stiles’s mouth.

Scott was shaking, his entire body trembling almost imperceptibly. It wasn’t fair how Stiles could take him apart so completely with just a few words. He licked his tongue over his own abused mouth, tasting blood and the salt from Stiles’s skin before rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. Everything flushed dark as sweat prickled down his spine, embarrassingly eager like a teenage boy and the barest apprehension. He trusted Stiles, he always had.

Fingers dug painfully deep into his thighs as Scott kept his legs spread, putting himself on display like some kind of whore and worse, liking it. He’d never gone this far with any of the others, just quick hand jobs and sloppy blow jobs with pale brunette men that took the edge off the needs he could never bring home. A poor imitation of what he really wanted. When those wicked smirking lips finally closed around his cock, Scott arched off the bed with a shocked cry. Small bloody half-moons from human nails dug into his legs as he struggled to keep himself from grabbing Stiles by the hair and thrusting into that impossibly wet warmth.

“Oh fuck!” Scott choked on the words, writhing as he tried to force himself deeper. He couldn’t thrust like this, completely at the mercy of Stiles’s mouth. “Fucking hell, that’s not fair-!” If the human wanted him to beg, then the alpha knew it was only a matter of time. He might have had the physical strength, but his best friend could bring it crashing down with a look. “Please, oh god I can’t” Scott gasped, words trailing off into incomprehensible Spanish.

 _Jesus, Scotty, you’re so pretty._  

Not a single word escaped him, but Stiles moaned like he was paid to. His cheeks hollowed out as he sucked, drooling sloppily over his best friend’s thick cock. Scott was like velvet on his tongue, girth so thick his jaw ached along the curve of his shaft. Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about how good the alpha would look, bouncing on his dick, his own spilling precum over his taut belly. He couldn’t fit the whole thing in, but damned if Stiles wasn’t trying.

He fondled Scott’s balls, walking his fingers over the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. There was so much he wanted to touch and taste. Stiles was endlessly fascinated by the way Scott’s chest trembled as he gasped for breath. He traced the path of dark hairs that crawled up his wolf’s belly, slowly dragging his eyes up the panes of the alpha’s body. His mouth curved into a smirk around Scott’s dick. When he fingered him open and finally fucked down into Scott’s hole, he didn’t look away.

Scott’s grip slipped and he almost lost everything when Stiles’s eyes found his own, intensely focused and blown almost black. He had to break away, throwing his head back against the bed and bit his lip hard enough to bleed to pull himself away from the edge. Not yet, he’d waited too long for this to have it end like this. The wolf was tight, tensed and so out of practice but it felt  _good_  to be teased open again. To be filled until tight muscle relaxed and his body demanded more. Scott rocked back against Stiles’s hand, trying to draw him deeper with quick, breathy pants. Scott wrapped his hand around his cock, squeezing tight around his base to keep himself from spending. Control was hard won and Scott fucked into his fist before rolling his hips back against Stiles’s fingers. “I can take more, you’re not gonna hurt me.”

Stiles rocked back and forth, losing rhythm as pleasure overwhelmed his senses. The most delicious pleasure curled around him. It felt like his skin was too tight, like everything was too much. He could feel his control slipping through his fingers, but all that mattered was  _faster,_   _more._  Scott was beautiful, more amazing than anything his imagination could conjure. The human didn’t know he was moaning, voice climbing with every frantic thrust. Heat pooled in his belly, claiming inch after inch of skin. When Stiles came, it happened all at once, brown eyes going wide in not-quite surprise. Every muscle seized, and the next thing he knew, he was drooling on his best friend’s shoulder, and it felt like his jaw had come unhinged.

Stiles didn’t know how much time he’d lost, but when he came to, Scott was close enough to kiss. He rested on a familiar pillow, on familiar sheets, but his partner was so different this time around. Stiles ghosted his lips across his alpha’s jaw, a strangled little whine escaping him, and there was so much more he had to say. 

He dragged his hand across Scott’s belly, smearing cum and sweat across his skin. Stiles took great pleasure in licking his wolf’s lips.

“You’re mine, Scotty.” He whispered, eyes heavy. Goosebumps broke out across his skin, but he’d never felt less lie moving. “I’m not letting you go.”

Scott didn’t say a word, just catching Stiles’s hand and bringing it to his lips so he could lick his fingers clean. He didn’t have the words, there was nothing that could have put his scattered thoughts together. His entire body ached and everything was boneless, but he summoned the last of his energy to curl closer and tangle their legs together like there were kids sharing a bed again. Scott couldn’t even count the times he’d played this out in his mind, shameful fantasies he tried to bury over the years when he imagined his best friend in anonymous partners or fucking into his hand when he was alone. They couldn’t compare to the real thing, though it almost felt too good to be true.

“I love you.” He said, the words written clearly in every lazy, messy kiss they traded. “I love you so much.” The wolf bumped his nose against his best friend’s, smiling as he tipped his head in agreement. “I’m not letting go.”

Stiles gasped, and his dick twitched, shamelessly eager. He wanted so much. Everything had fallen together so fast, he wasn’t quite sure he’d caught up, but he pulled his mate closer, cradling him in his arms with infinite care. With gentle fingers, he traced the swell of Scott’s mouth. He liked Scott’s smile. He liked so much about him. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, and it their little secret. He smoothed back Scott’s sweat-kissed locks, slowly tracing down the long curve of his spine to settle low on his back. All Stiles wanted was to hold him close. He was going to take care of Scott, no matter what that meant.

The stakes had never been so high, but this was a game Stiles wanted to play. As long as he had his best friend by his side, he didn’t think anything could go wrong. He might not have been thinking straight, but it was difficult to be anything but hopeful when Scott looked at him like that.

“You know, right? We’re… We’re gonna be okay. I mean it, Scott. It was always you and I was too scared to admit it. I hurt you and Derek just because I was too much of a coward to say it.”

“I should have said it too. I could have avoided all of this.”

Scott didn’t know how good it could feel to fall asleep like this in damp, sweat soaked sheets and tangled together. Stiles had always sprawled across his bed when they were kids, was he still that way? Did he still sleep in the middle, would they curl together in the night? What would it be like to wake up together with lazy wandering hands and sloppy kisses. There were so many wounds to heal and apologies to make, but there was one thing Scott knew with absolute certainty.

“I’m not going to lose you again, I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written by [Tmautog](http://nevertrustastilesthing.tumblr.com/) and [Rune](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com).


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